Mummy Marge
by Ulifan
Summary: What if marge was nice to harry? Not only that, but a witch to boot? I guess we are going to find out...
1. Chapter 1

NOTE: I AM REDOING THIS WHOLE STORY! This is the first fixed chapter, and hopefully after the first three chapters are fixed I will have time to work on this story again. PS Those that have review- THANKS!

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, and most of my ideas belong to other people (mostly JK Rowling). If you see something I may have um… borrowed from somewhere else or someone else's story tell me and I will try to fix it to give the source credit.

Harry was afraid, scar his so-called family was leaving for a whole month. They were going to some amusement ed senseless. He was eight and park in the States that he never could seem to catch the name of. He was of course not allowed to go. He did not get a brand new Carmine suitcase. Dudley was the only one allowed such luxuries. In an old plastic latte colored shopping bag he clutched his few belongings. Just a couple of Dudley's old oversized clothes, a ragged blue baby blanket, and one of Vernon's old belts. He shivered at the thought of that belt raining down on his back. The welts turning a bright crimson compared to his pale beige skin.

It wasn't that Harry was going to miss his family or anything, it was that he would be dropped off at his 'Aunt' Marge's house. She wasn't related to him by blood, but she was his cousin's aunt so he was expected to call her by that honorific title as well. It didn't help that Harry had never met the women before. He did not know if she was as bad as his uncle was, but knew his uncle likely warned her about how freaky he was. He had no hope for this vacation.

Harry was forced into the boot of the car, with all of the luggage around him. He clutched his belongings to his chest as his uncle shut him in. Harry was scared of confined spaces, and his uncle laughed maliciously as harry screamed from the inky blackness he now found himself in. Harry cried for the whole trip which felt like days, but from the light outside knew was only a few hours.

When the car stopped, Harry quietly sighed in relief. Uncle Vernon opened the trunk, and Harry quickly scrambled out. He winced a bit as his shirt stuck to his still opened wounds, left over from his latest whipping just hours before the trip. Uncle Vernon marched back from the front door of his sister's house, and pushed Harry out of the cars way towards the house. Uncle Vernon shouted, "Remember the rules!" and sped away, leaving the young boy alone, outside a

Harry heard the front door open, and turned around quickly to see a bulky woman filling the doorway. She grunted at him and told him to come inside. Harry had never seen a woman as big as Uncle Vernon before, but figured it must run in the family. He was terrified, but shuffled his way into the house.

Marge had been told Harry was a terror, and had to be disciplined frequently to keep him in line. She knew of her brothers thoughts on discipline, and felt sorry for the young boy. Dudley was a terror, and she also knew Dudley had no discipline in his life. Even if Harry was a terror, she knew he couldn't possibly be as bad as Dudley, and definitely did not deserve Vernon. Marge had grown up with Vernon, and she knew he was xenophobic. He was scared of being thought of as a freak because of his childhood. The neighborhood kids had never really liked him much, and picked on him for most of his childhood. In her heart she knew it was extremely likely Vernon picked on him because he was different.

When looking down at the boy Marge had to withhold a wince. He was scrawny, underfed, and walked with a limp. He was extremely dirty, and his clothing was like a tent on him. He was squinting, and didn't seem to really be able to see anything. His black hair was a mess, and hung down in his face. Marge was really worried about the little boy. When he wiped the hair out of his face and squinted up at her, she swore she was going to have a heart attack. He had the lightning bolt shaped scar, that Harry Potter was famous for.

How did she know this? Well, the Dursley family was actually a pure-blood family of witches. Well, the females at least. It was passed down in her mother's bloodline and by the time Vernon was old enough to remember, Marge had already graduated Hogwarts and moved out, so they never mentioned it to Vernon. Vernon was hurting their savior. The only reason she is even alive is from this boy. Her fiancé had been killed by that dark lord. There was no way he was going back to his brother. She would get Harry blood adopted. He was going to be her son if it was the last thing she did. She had a feeling it was Dumbledore's fault Harry was in this state, and never checked on him. But how was she to help the poor boy?

"Well boy inside then" Marge said, wincing at the roughness in her voice. Harry jumped about a foot in the air, and limped towards the house. Ripper, Marge's dog started growling as Harry walked inside. "Hush now." Marge said to the dog as she tapped it on the nose. "So Harry, what would you like for dinner?"

"Not allowed to eat dinner." Harry whispered, "Its against the rules." "What rules you silly boy?" Marge asked, trying to extinguish the anger in her eyes. Harry gulped and said, "No whining, no new clothes, no eating at the table, no beds, do all the chores, new rules can be added at anytime, Freaks don't deserve anything." Now Marge was hard to anger, but when she heard the rules her brother had enforced on the poor lad, she was livid. "Harry," She barked. When she saw him wince, she toned it down. "Harry, those rules are gone. You most certainly deserve all those things. Now, come on, you can help me prepare dinner." Harry just nodded, and followed along.

Knowing Harry would likely be used to cooking, and wouldn't know what to do if he wasn't allowed, she set him up with some potatoes to peel. Meanwhile, she went to start a chicken soup, so she could try to get her anger under control before she scared Harry. When his potatoes were done, she set the soup to simmer, and brought Harry into the living room with her. "Harry, you know those rules my brother gave you are wrong." Harry just looked at her skeptically. "Listen after dinner tonight, you are going to go to bed and in the morning I am taking you to get decent clothes." She still got no response from Harry. "Come on then Harry, it's time for dinner."

Marge went to set the table, and found Harry standing there awkwardly with a mask of confusion on his face. She got up and led Harry to the chair next to hers. She filled his bowl with a nice thick chicken and potato soup and his glass full of ice cold milk, and told him to eat.

Harry looked at her skeptically. He knew this game. His Aunt Petunia liked to play it. He would be invited to dinner for being a good boy that day and as soon as he took a bite would be slapped. The food would be taken away and he would be confined to his cupboard without food for a week. He was sure it would be the same game, but knew better then to disobey. That would only make the outcome worse.

He took a large bite and winced waiting for the blow to come. When none did he opened his eyes in surprise. He found his Aunt Marge was busy eating her own food and completely ignoring him. He relaxed minutely and continued to eat.

Marge _was_ watching him though. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as he looked at her in surprise as she ate. She didn't know the story behind that, but wasn't sure she really wanted to know at this point. When she noticed Harry just playing with his food, she realized his stomach must be extremely tiny from starvation. She knew he needed nutrients though, so she picked up the glass of milk and walked to the sink. She found a bit of nutrient potion and measured out a young child's dose. She mixed it in the milk and told Harry to drink it all up.

Harry thought she was trying to make him sick. His Aunt Petunia used to put a laxative in his drink, and then lock him in a cupboard overnight. The resulting mess would get him beat and then forced to clean up the whole mess. He would be forced to stay in his extremely disgusting clothes for days as well because he only had three outfits and they were not allowed to be washed often.

He drunk the milk down and expected to be locked away somewhere. He was really surprised when his Aunt Marge just had him carry his dished to the sink. Harry was about to start washing them when Aunt Marge stopped him. "Harry you don't have to do that." She said.

"But it's my job?" Harry asked confusedly. Marge Just shook her head "I'll tell you what Harry, I will wash and you can help me dry." Harry Shrugged, and said undecidedly, "Okay" She handed him a towel and he began to dry. She saw him getting sleepy but she had to finish the dishes before she could put him in bed. They were on the last dish when the unthinkable happened- Harry dropped a dish. The dish smashed into a million pieces.

Harry looked shocked for a second, before he winced and huddled into a ball, waiting for the blows. Marge took one look at him and sighed. "Harry" she said in a soft voice, "I'm not mad" Harry didn't move. Marge just sighed and bent down to pick him up. When she grabbed him she felt Harry flinch. She walked upstairs and put him on the bed. Harry slowly uncurled himself in shock.

Marge smiled a little at this and then frowned when she saw what her brother had sent as clothes. She just sighed and looked at Harry who was by this point staring at her guardedly. "Well these clothes just won't do at all." She said, as she walked out of the room. She first snuck down stairs and cast a quick repario on the porcelain pieces, then walked into her room. In her fiancés old clothes she looked through his old pajamas. She finally found a pair that didn't have magic all over it, and shrink them down to a size that would likely fit Harry.

She smiled and walked back into the room to find Harry in the exact position she last saw him in. She handed him the pajamas, and helped him to change. She gasped in shock when she saw his body. It was literally covered in scars, bruises, scabs, and welts. His back was the worst. The welts were fresh and still bleeding slowly. She turned around so Harry wouldn't see her cry. When she turned back around Harry was dressed already, and standing there uncertainly. Smiling, she turned down the bed covers and patted the bed. Harry looked confused for a moment, but climbed in. Marge kissed him on the forehead and tucked him in. With one last glance she left the room. Harry sat there in the dark for a second confused. He had just had the best day of his life. He even got a kiss on his forehead. He had never had any of that before. He hoped none of this was a cruel trick and it would all still happen in the morning.

There was no way Marge was getting to sleep tonight. She had a friend to contact, healing potions to brew, and a little boy to worry about


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, and most of my ideas belong to other people. If you see something I may have um… borrowed from somewhere else or someone else's story tell me and I will try to fix it to give the source credit.

"Well boy inside then" Marge said, wincing at the roughness in her voice. Harry jumped about a foot in the air, and limped towards the house. Ripper, Marge's dog started growling as Harry walked inside. "Hush now." Marge said to the dog. "So Harry, what would you like for dinner?"

"Not allowed to eat dinner." Harry whispered, "Its against the rules." "What rules you silly boy?" Marge asked, trying to extinguish the anger in her eyes. Harry gulped and said, "No whining, no new clothes, no eating at the table, no beds, do all the chores, new rules can be added at anytime, Freaks don't deserve anything." Now Marge was hard to anger, but when she heard the rules her brother had enforced on the poor lad, she was livid. "Harry," She barked. When she saw him wince, she toned it down. "Harry, those rules are gone. You most certainly deserve all those things. Now, come on, you can help me prepare dinner." Harry just nodded, and followed along.

Knowing Harry would be used to cooking, she set him up with some potatoes to peel. Meanwhile, she went to start a chicken soup, so she could try to get her anger under control before she scared Harry. When his potatoes were done, she set the soup to simmer, and brought Harry into the living room with her. "Harry, you know those rules my brother gave you are wrong." Harry just looked at her skeptically. "Listen after dinner tonight, you are going to go to bed and in the morning I am taking you to get decent clothes." She still got no response from Harry. "Come on then Harry, it's time for dinner." After dinner, Marge tucked Harry into a soft warm bed, and left him, hoping she could get to sleep, but instinctively knowing she was to upset to do so. She laid down and worried about what the morning would bring.

Next day:

Marge woke up worried to death about what to do today. She peeked into Harry's room, intending to let him sleep. But he wasn't in bed. She searched the whole house for him. She could not find him anywhere. Giving up hope, she sat on Harry's bed worrying, until she heard a whimper.

She flew to Harry's closet, and inside curled up in a ball was her nephew. He was whimpering in his sleep. His oversized shirt had slipped down his shoulder during the night, and Marge could see scars, bruises, and gashes all over his back. The amount on his back was outstanding.

Marge slowly reached down and shook his shoulder to wake him up. "Harry come with me." Harry looked at her with wide eyes and nodded, expecting to be beat after failing to wake and make breakfast for her. Marge took him into the bathroom, and gave him a bath, during which he sat absolutely still. Afterwards, he was told to go lay down on his bed. Harry was sure she was leaving to get a belt so she could punish him.

He tensed up when she came back in the room, and gasped with surprise when she put a cold cream on his back. "Now Harry," she said, "This will make your back all better by tonight." Harry nodded. "Okay then, come on we have to go shopping."

It was going to be Harry's first ever shopping trip.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, and most of my ideas belong to other people. If you see something I may have um… borrowed from somewhere else or someone else's story tell me and I will try to fix it to give the source credit.

Marge was unused to caring for a young boy. She never even cared for her own brother. She was almost twenty years older than him, and had been living her own life before he was even born. While she had some memories from babysitting when he was little, she barely knew what a child even liked to eat.

While Harry was waiting for her, she had snuck into her room and found some old clothes for him to wear. They were her fiancés old clothes, which she shrunk quite a bit to fit the young lad. She cursed her brother for never growing up. He got that wife of his pregnant when he was only seventeen. At twenty-six years old, he was barely able to take care of himself, let alone his young family.

Handing Harry the clothes, she ushered him out the door. She walked to the back of her house, and opened her garage. Her old beat-up car was reliable, although not much to look at. She didn't have a car seat, and although at eight Harry didn't really need one, his size was more of a four year old. She sighed, and added another thing to the growing list of supplies she would need to pick up today.

Once in the car she started the hour long drive to town. She was not enjoying the awkward silence in her car. She turned on the radio and found some music to try to ease the tension. Once they finally got to town, she sighed relieved. She was happy to be put and around. Soon she would find the things she needed to make Harry better.

Her first stop was the doctors. She knew the doctor well, and luckily he dabbled in both worlds. He would be able to help Harry the best ways possible, and would keep his mouth shut. Harry just followed behind her, worrying, but not daring to say a word. He felt he had been lucky thus far, but there was no way it would last.


End file.
